


Where the Wind Blows.

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, instead is long and introspective about falling in love and mourning and friendship, past mentions of Legolas crush on Tauriel, recounting lost loves, this was supposed to be short and funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: Tauriel and Legolas' friendship through the War of the Ring, as well as Legolas getting to know and falling in love with Gimli.(Or: 70 years later, Tauriel gets to say 'I told you so').





	Where the Wind Blows.

**Imladris.**

"Two men, four halflings, a _dwarf..._ " Legolas despairs, checking his weapons and finishing his packing. "What is lord Elrond thinking?"

Tauriel looks at him with a curious glance.

"Surely you don't find fault within Elessar, my lord?" She asks. "And I have heard great deeds of Boromir of Gondor. He is a great warrior, trusted and respected by his people."

"Of course I don't find fault in Elessar, Tauriel." Legolas sighs. "Nor with the Gondorian, for all his pride. But the Halflings? Sending children would be, perhaps, less cruel. What do they know of war and monsters? And the dwarf... mark my words, he will try to keep the ring for himself."

Tauriel's expression hardens. Since Legolas went back to his father's halls, it's something that he has seen happen often, when others mention dwarves.

"You don't know that, prince Legolas," Tauriel says. "Gimli Gloinul tried to destroy the ring before our very eyes. Foolishly, perhaps, but with honor and courage. And yes, perhaps the hobbits may have lived sheltered lives up until now. But do not scorn or punish innocence, lord. Dark are the omens and dark are the days that will come. We all could do with some light."

Legolas bites his tongue to stop himself from quarreling more with her. Their friendship of old is still much changed, after the Battle of the Five Armies and his leave from the Greenwood. After almost five years of him going back to his father's halls, they are still finding their footing within each other and Legolas would rather not part ways with her in ill terms.

"Still, I would change any of them for the chance to have your knives and watchful eyes fighting by my side, my friend," Legolas offers instead.

This, at least, thaws some of the ice from Tauriel's expression and she softens her look at him. She unsheaths one of said knives as she comes close to him and she offers its handle to him.

"Since I can't dispense my eyes, may the knife, at least, be of aid, Legolas." Tauriel offers with her soft voice. "I have sent word to your father that, with lord Elrond leave, we will remain in Imladris, in case you and the Fellowships might need assistance."

Heavy steps interrupt him before he can speak. Both he and Tauriel turn to look at the dwarf, and Legolas imagines that the same look of distate upon his face might be showing on his. The dwarf gives a minute bow to his head as he looks at him and Tauriel. Tauriel does offer a formal bow towards the dwarf, which seems to be ignored.

"Master Elf, Gandalf would have words with the whole of the Company."

"I see." He turns towards Tauriel, taking hold of the knife, changing once more to Sindarin. " _Na lû e-govaned vîn, Tauriel. (*)_ "

Tauriel, while she covers his hand with hers, speaks in clear Westron.

"Give them a chance, my friend. Keep your eyes open and you might see things that you knew in different ways. Good luck and until then, Legolas."

With this she lets go of his hands and offers him a bow, hand upon her heart, before turning towards the dwarf and with unneeded respect, offers him a formal bow once more. The dwarf, he sees, give an infinite nod of his head, distrust in his eyes, and Legolas tightens his jaw and says nothing at the dwarf before going to find Gandalf and the rest of the Company.

**Lothlórien.**

Legolas walks away from the grieving Hobbits and Men, just as he tries to get away from the chants and grieving song for Mithrandir, but he finds he cannot: even the mallorns seem to whisper of his loss, until the pain is not just in his heart but all around him.

"Ah, Mithrandir," he calls, letting himself fall on the leaves-covered ground, closing his eyes as the pain and mourning seem to pierce him.

Gimli's heavy steps make him open his eyes long before the dwarf comes forth. Once he does, the dwarves' face, a moments ago serious and lost within his own thoughts and grief, closes over in distrust and Legolas finds himself hurt by this, even though he knows and understands why it is so.

"Master Elf. I beg your pardon, I didn't realize you'd be here," and with this the dwarf bows at him and-- Legolas can't stand this coldness, when his grief is already seeping every thought of warmth and kindness from him.

"Master Dwarf," he calls. Gimli stops and, after a pause, turns to look at him. Legolas tries to make his voice as kind as he knows how. "Would you keep me company, perhaps? I tire of my own thoughts. I would have a friendly voice rather than my own somberness."

He sees Gimli's eyebrows raise at his request, before he harrumps mightily.

"Very well then. But let it be known that you asked me, master Elf."

"Legolas," he asks, before offering a small smile that doesn't feel quite real, but he tries. "I would have you call me by name, master Dwarf, if it wouldn't cause offense."

"Well, it doesn't, as long as you were to call me by my name then and stop this 'master Dwarf' nonsense, Legolas."

His smile settles more on his face and he bows his head. "Very well. Gimli."

This pleases Gimli, who harrumphs once more before sitting nearby over a rock, taking out his smoking pipe. Before he lights he makes a motion towards Legolas, as if to make sure that it won't bother him, and once confirmed he takes a deep breath and blows smoke.

"So, by the way you spoke, it is also your first time within the Lady's realm, Legolas?"

"Much had I wanted to come and see the mallorns and gaze upon lord Celebrian and lady Galadriel, but my travels kept me to other roads." Legolas lays a hand to the trunk of a mallorn. "And yet I cannot rejoice, for its upon tragedy and sorrow that I set foot here. Ach, I cannot seem to be able to escape this somber mood."

"Grief is known to do that, lad." Gimli says, and Legolas stops himself from reminding the dwarf just how old he is. "It will batter you worse than any enemy, and once you're beaten it will gather around you and hold you like a lover would until you can hear, see, smell or feel nothing else but grief."

"Your kin in Mor--" He interrupts himself and thinks of how it always hurts, when people will talk of the Greenwood as Mirkwood, thinks of the words lady Galadriel gave to Gimli and if lady Galadriel can be as gracious, who is he that he holds himself above her. "... Your family in Khazad-dûm."

Gimli grumbles what Legolas is delighted to find is laughter. "Your accent is atrocious, lad, gives me another very good reason why we dwarves don't teach Khuzdul to other people as is! But aye. My uncle. My cousin. Good friends. I should pen a letter to let my father and the dwarves of Erebor know... but the words to be said are far too grim just for that! Oh, we hoped against hope for a reason why they hadn't sent word, after so much time..."

Gimli stops talking, his eyes closed in his pain. Legolas can understand.

"You should write it anyhow," he offers instead. "Even if you don't send it. These wounds are known to fester, unless exposed and aired. "

His words surprise Gimli, it's clear in his expression, but when his surprise melts away, there remains something close to warmth, or as close as warmth as it had ever gotten towards him.

"Perhaps there is some true to that, lad." Gimli accepts, before he shakes his head. "But not now, I don't think. It's still too close. This pain, I think, needs to be nursed first, before it being weaned."

Legolas says nothing at that, just giving a nod towards the dwarf, picking up a fallen branch nearby. Tauriel's knife is far too good to confuse it with a whittler knife but it's all he has with him, so Legolas starts carving over the grain carefully, carving gently without any kind of thought as to what to do, just something for his hands to do.

After a while, he realizes he has Gimli's gaze upon him and he stops, looking up to find him surprised.

"You work with wood?"

"I wouldn't say 'work', that would presume some kind of mastery that I do not possess." He shrugs one shoulder. "But I know a bit. Enough to fix my bows if needed, mostly."

"May I?" Gimli extends his hands and Legolas doubts for a moment before he puts both the half carved stick and the knive over his hands. He looks carefully at the carved beginnings of a bird's beak, at the lines he tried to engrave, then towards the knife.

"This is good work," Gimli mutters gruffly. "For an elven blade, at least."

Legolas finds himself smiling again. "It would please the owner to hear that a master dwarf thinks her knives are good. I shall tell her, I think, once we see each other again."

"Her?"

"Tauriel. She was one of the elves of my entourage upon Rivendell. You saw her briefly, before we parted."

Gimli frowns as in remembrance before he shakes his head and offers both the carved wood and the knife back.

"You'll have to pardon me, lad. When we were at Rivendell, I much thought all of you the same and wouldn't have known one elf for another."

Legolas finds himself smiling at that, without offense. He couldn't blame Gimli for that: not too long ago, he would have said the same about dwarves, after all.

"I'll introduce you to her, once our mission is done."

Gimli looks at him and, to Legolas surprise, he smiles at him with no darkness or malice hidden at all.

"I'll look forward to that, then."

** Helm's Deep. **

When Legolas' finds sight of Tauriel's familiar red hair within the elves lord Elrond sent to fight he gasps out loud, forgetting himself: he should not he surprised that she is there, he thinks, and yet he cannot help himself. Gimli calls after him but Legolas is already moving, and Tauriel smiles at him and reaches for his hands before he asks for them and for a moment, as they press brows to each other, Legolas can almost feel back in the Greenwoods, about two or three hundreds ago, with his friend.

"Would that I could be surprised that you are here in the eve of battle. Ah, Tauriel, my friend, lucky are the eyes that see you."

"I could hardly leave you alone to fight the orcs here, my lord." Tauriel says in her clear Sindarin, a hint of her old spirit in her words. "When I learned lord Elrond was sending people to help, I begged him to let me join the ranks. I would hardly been able to see your father in the eyes again, if I wasn't sure you were alright."

There's a moment of silence, and Tauriel frowns, her hands tight on his. Her Sindarin is soft and worried and only for his ears.

"You _are_ alright, are you not? We learned about Mithrandir and Khazad-dûm..."

Legolas tries to remember exactly when it was that Tauriel started calling Dwarf-cities and placements with the Dwarvish names, and finds he cannot. Instead he nods at her simple question.

"Much has happened since then, my friend. Much more than a few minutes before battle would allow us to speak about."

"Once it's done, then." Tauriel offers.

"But before, I would have you meet someone!" And so used he has become to Gimli being by his side that finding him not there shakes him to the core. Despite Tauriel's presence he immediately feels chilled and shaken. It's true that he didn't say Gimli should follow, but Legolas had thought it obvious, with his joy. "But perhaps that should too wait until after the battle is done."

Tauriel nods and she returns to her post and Legolas' to his, Gimli still there, looking ahead, an odd tightness to his shoulders that Legolas doesn't understand.

"Why didn't you follow?" He asks. "That is Tauriel over there. I would have you meet her. I've told you this before."

Gimli shrugs. "Hardly seemed that you'd have wanted me for a reunion, lad."

"Of course I would have, Gimli, mellon-nin." Legolas says instead, confused at Gimli's words. There's something over Gimli's expression that he doesn't like, doesn't understand so he tries again. "I would have two of my dearest friends each other acquaintances."

Yet his words seem to be the wrong thing to say which he blames on the battle to come: the eve of a battle is not the place, perhaps, to speak of such longings.

And then there is the battle and all its horror: Legolas tries to keep track of two redheads among all the chaos of it and at times he manages. There Tauriel's long hair and her knives flashing through the knight like lightning. There Gimli's warrior queue and his mighty axe and battle cry. Here he fights against orcs, arrows and knives as well. There Aragorn leading the Rohirrim into fight.

There, Gimli gone-- and Legolas' heart stops beating as he tries to look around and fight a mighty dwarven warrior among the rotten twisted bodies of orcs but he cannot find him. Not between the fallen, not between the fighting.

"Aragorn!" He calls. "I don't see Gimli!"

Aragorn's face is a reflection of his own distress. Aragorn looks around wildly before he closes his eyes and Legolas thinks 'no' even before Aragorn looks at him.

"Gimli must be well, Legolas. Do not give hope on him."

"I need to find him."

"Legolas! There is still a battle to be won," Aragorn puts his hand upon his shoulder and the pain in Legola's chest might eat him alive, if he lets it. "Let us trust our friend, Legolas. A dwarven warrior of Erebor might not be so easily fallen."

Legolas tries to let this words ease his grief, and he loses himself in the battle, lets his pain soar because if he has lost Gimli already, then, he thinks, his life might already be forfeit, no matter what he does.

When Gimli appears again, a wound to his head, blood upon his hair, tying the wound with cloth, the relief of seeing him almost knocks Legolas off his feet. As it is, he leans against a wall for a moment, and then he doesnt' feel his feet move as he rushes towards his friend.

"You're wounded!" he calls, dismayed at it, his hands trembling.

"Ach, lad, it's nothing but a scratch!" Gimli scoffs, looking up at him. His eyes are clear and warm and dark and _alive_. Legolas can't help himself and he falls to his knees so that he may embrace Gimli tightly.

He feels more than see Gimli's surprise. But then his big, strong hands are around him, and surprisingly gently they rub his back until his trembling stops. It was no time for reunions, not with the battle still going, with Helm's Deep about to fall to the enemy. But it was needed and at point it was enough.

** Minas Tirith.**

The servant barely has time to tell Legolas that captain Tauriel is looking for him before he's running. There was barely time after Helm's Deep, and with so many wounded, so many Firstborns' felled, Taurieland her brief but sure medical skills had been needed, and he had to fall back to Aragorn and Gimli and then to Rohan. He had barely been able to say goodbye to his friend..

That had been, by his feel, an age or more ago.

She smiles as she sees him, dressed in her greens and browns, any wound she might have received gone, and then Legolas does as Men do and embraces her tightly, feeling Tauriel hug him back.

" _Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn, Legolas,_ " she greets him, keeping her words in Sindarin as they part. "I worried."

"So did I, my friend. It eases my heart to see you well. Do you have news from the Greenwood?"

"I do. I got word from Dol Guldor." Tauriel says before offering him the note. "The king is well. And so is the forest."

Legolas takes the parchment she offers, eyes scanning through the writing.

"Gone," he whispers. "The evil that haunted the Greenwoods-- gone." That, almost more than the sundering of Mordor and Sauron, seems the impossible feat for him. He was but a child when the sickness started growing with the woods, when the spiders started corrupting it. Tauriel, he realizes, doesn't even know those woods.

"Can you imagine, Tauriel?" He asks. "What it will feel to be able to go through the forest again without feeling its sickness, helping the trees grow healthy again? The stars will look upon the forest once more!"

When Tauriel doesn't answer, he turns to look at her again in question. Tauriel looks pained, before she closes her eyes for a moment.

"I... cannot imagine that joy, even though it eases my heart to know it will be so. And I'm afraid I won't go back to the Greenwood to see it heal, my lord." Legolas sees her swallow once before she opens her eyes and looks at him. "While I was in Rivendell, I talked with lord Elrond, and I have sent word to king Tharanduil. I plan to sail to the Undying Lands."

"Tauriel..." just hearing her speak of sail makes the cries of gulls ring in his ears but Legolas forces himself not to listen. He goes towards where his friend is, curls a hand on her shoulder. "Are you certain of this? You love this land so."

Tauriel stays silent for a few moments, before she speaks.

"I do. And I promised myself... I wouldn't be like one of the elfmaidens of song, languishing for love lost. When Kili died, at first-- I thought I would do so, as well. Never had I or have I felt such pain as I did then." Tauriel says softly, and the hurt in her voice cuts him. He remembers Helm's Deep, and he knows that was but an ounce of the pain he would have felt, had he truly lost Gimli. "The king... your father, was kind, as much as he could be. He told me that it would always hurt, but that I should keep on going, each day, because each day would make it a little bit easier. Just like some learn to live without a leg or arm, one is able to learn to live with only remnants of a broken heart, if one must. And so I promised myself that while the darkness remained, so would I."

Somewhere inside Legolas' mind there's a whisper of something that sounds like understanding and something similar enough to grief for his father, of what little he remembers of his mother, of the person his father turned into, after her. And he aches, as well, for the pain in Tauriel's voice, in her eyes. Seventy years is so little time, for them...

"And did the pain ease?" he asks instead, although Legolas knows the answer.

Tauriel shakes her head 'no' once. "It... eats inside me, this pain. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but it's as constant as a shadow, with me. I fear it might keep spreading until there is nothing left of me. So before that happens and all that is left of me is grief, I will sail and take my love with me."

And Legolas remembers leaving her, so many years ago, wounded pride, the vision of his world shaken and once more he feels shamed for what he did, what he didn't do, before he follows dwarven advice on not digging beyond a point, instead on working over what you already have and polish it. His hands move from her shoulders to search for her hands and, when finding them, he clasps them between his.

"I am so sorry that I wasn't there for you." He tells her. "Your grief over Kili was real. Is real. I shamed our friendship on scorning your love and your pain it and leaving you alone to stand it. I will miss you, my friend, when you sail, until we stand on the Undying Shores together once more."

Tauriel looks at him, surprise in green eyes, before she smiles at him: a pale shadow over the laughter he remembers, but more honest and heartfelt than he has seen her in many a year.

"Your apology is not needed, my friend. But I accept it and your promise for what it is."

Legolas smiles as well, leaning foward to rest his forehead against hers for a moment, wondering at the bizarre moment of feeling joy and sadness in perfect harmony.

Heavy steps coming close and then they turn to look at Gimli, who looks somber in ways he shouldn't be, not after the war is over and they have won.

"I apologize." Gimli says, and something in his voice makes Legolas frown even as he and Tauriel separate. "I did not mean to intrude, Legolas."

"Gimli, mellon-nin. You do not," Legolas steps aside to allow his oldest friend meet not his newest one, but the dearest one at that. "Tauriel, Gimli son of Gloin. Gimli, this is Tauriel, one of the best captains of the Greenwod Elven Guards and one of my best friends."

Tauriel smiles at Gimli warmly, giving him a formal bow before offering her hand in the use Men and Dwarves have of greeting another warrior. He sees Gimli's brief surprise - more, Legolas is sure, for the fact that an elf might offer that kind of warrior grasp rather than it was a woman doing so- before Gimli smiles and returns the grasp.

"It's my honor, master Gimli. At your service."

"Likewise, lassie, at yours and your family's." Gimli says, and Legolas frowns faintly at his quiet. He had wanted so for Gimli to meet Tauriel, see how fast they became friends. And rather there's something almost nervous and pained in Gimli, and he sees Gimli not looking at Tauriel's face, as if he found fault there.

Surely, if Gimli had forgiven him, the elf who put his father and kin in prision so many years ago, he would not blame Tauriel?

But before Legolas may say something to break the silence, Gimli gasps, his eyes on Tauriel's neck.

"That runework. I'd know it anywhere!"

One of Tauriel's hands moves, as fast as if it was going for her knives, to her throat, to cover the cord and the stone there: it's been so long since Legolas has seen Tauriel without it that he doesn't notice it anymore.

Gimli's eyes are huge on Tauriel, surprised and in pain. Tauriel looks at the dwarf and she sighs slowly. Legolas catches the faintest tremble of her fingers as she reaches behind her to undo the knot of the leather cord that is tied around the stone to hold it up, bringing it forward to them all to see the blue stone and the dwarvish runes.

"Kili's runestone. The lady Dis gave it to him. It was precious to him." Gimli says, his voice thick.

"He told me... to keep it as a promise. I loved him," Tauriel says simply, unashamed and proud and as valiant as ever, even with the way her voice thickens with her grief. "I love him still. And he loved me, for as little time as the Valar saw fit to grant us."

Legolas has known of this love, of course, and his father as well. But, he realizes, with the young princes' death all those years ago, this might very well be the first time a dwarf learns of Tauriel's love. He sees Gimli moved to emotion, knows his friend's heart, deeper than any mine, truer than any possible fire. His friend remains silent for a moment because of it, before he ever so gently takes the runestone and opens Tauriel's hand to then close it around the stone, and then he folds his big, strong hands around Tauriel's in what seems like a silent vow.

"I would tell you of him then, lass," Gimli says, his voice rough and with grief still shaken. "Fili and Kili were my cousins. We grew up together. We learned together and practiced together and fought together and I miss them still to this day. I would tell you every story I have of Kili, and I would hear of you as well, as my kinsman's chosen one."

Tauriel's eyes shine with tears and she nods once, before she bows towards Gimli in gratitude. It takes her a few moments before she finds her voice.

"I would gladly hear them, master Gimli, with my thanks for this unexpected kindness," but she glances at him and-- perhaps Legolas misunderstands her look, her smile? For surely it seemed as if the Tauriel of old, when she was nothing but a child, was playing him a prank, as if she knew more than he does and was waiting for the moment where he would trip or be covered by sticky sap or anything that would cause her mirth after gleefully calling to him 'I told you so!'. "But perhaps later? With some food and drink, I think. I'm afraid I have to return to my duties soon, and I believe you and my lord Legolas were to have words."

"Drink and food and music, and good stories and better company. Kili would have liked that," Gimli smiles, and if his eyes are as tearful as Tauriels, neither mentions it, as Gimli squeezes her hands once more before letting them go. He harumphs, as if to hide his emotions, and gives a nod towards him, winking at Tauriel. "And I hope you know, lassie, that I expect good stories in return."

And even Tauriel is won by Gimli's silver tongue and she laughs, a brief birdlike laughter that makes Legolas' eyes fill with tears: he has missed her laughter so! "That I do know and will gladly provide. About six hundred or so years of them!"

She bids her farewells with this, still smiling and cheerful and even though she hasn't sailed yet, Legolas misses her already, for the future when she will not be there, and up until they will meet again.

"You love her, don't you?" Gimli asks but doesn't wait for his answer. "Laddie, you should have told me how things were. I would have been kinder had I known what kind of love it was."

Legolas tries to look back at the conversation to understand what Gimli is saying, finds he cannot. "Mellon nin, I'm sorry, but what kind of love is it? For I do love Tauriel very much, as a trusted friend and childhood companion."

"Lad, I thought her your beloved," Gimli says, shaking his head. "The way you were at Rivendell, and how you held each other at Helm's Deep, you could hardly blame me. Had I known she loved another... and another dwarf, at that! It hardly takes a scholar to understand why you held dwarves to such low regards! I would have made sure you had more wine after Rohan, at the very least."

"By the battle of Helm's Deep, I hadn't seen a Greenwood elf in months by then, and it wasn't any other elf but my childhood's best friend," Legolas says slowly, his thoughts a whirlwind. "I... did, at some point, fancy myself in love with her. But I was merely confusing fondness and friendship for one's heart true desire. I--"

Legolas finds himself missing words, for this, wonders of what he risks losing here, if he was to give life to his hopes. Wonders at the intent way Gimli's dark eyes look at him, as if his very whisper could crumble him.

And then another sigh of understanding helps him place everything in its right place: he thinks of Gimli's strange behaviour in Helm's Deep, dissappearing before he could introduce him to Tauriel then, or his words about not wanting to intrude. Thinks about Tauriel's almost mischievous smile before leaving them and most of all, thinks of Tauriel's sad, prophetic words for when an elf loves a mortal.

_'And he loved me, for as little time as the Valar saw fit to grant us.'_

And Legolas makes his choice. Heart hammering in his chest he gathers his courage to him, more courage than it took to kill an oliphant, and he breathes out and speaks:

"... now that I know what my heart desires, it's clear to me that I was never in love with Tauriel. My heart lays not within her hands, but with the hands that... that just held hers."

Gimli looks at him for a moment, as unmoving as stone and Legolas's heart flutters like a bird caught in a snare inside his chest. Finally Gimli breathes out a relieved sounding laugh.

"Mahal's beard, lad!" he exclaims and he looks giddy, almost drunk. "Do you have any bloody idea how jealous I was after witnessing you holding each other in Helm's Deep, looking and whispering at each other as if you were exchanging sweet nothing and as if you believed there was no-one else in this world, after I had just dared to hope that maybe you could feel the same?"

The bird in his chest quiets its frantic wings for a moment, and then it's released to soar through the skies, free.

"Gimli, you...?" he understands why Gimli looks drunk, the euphoria of relief rendering him ditzy and his knees almost weak.

"Of course I love you back, you daft elf!" Gimli moves to him, a hand on his waist, the other one holding his hand, looking at him as if he was a wonder. "How is it that your elf eyes didn't see that, I'll never know."

And that's as much as Legolas lets him speak before he lets himself fall to his knees, claiming Gimli's mouth with his and Gimli, oh Elbereth, kisses him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Sindarin:  
> Na lû e-govaned vîn: Until next we meet.  
> Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn: A star shines on the hour of our meeting.


End file.
